The Family You Choose
by DolbyDigital
Summary: Sirius hoisted the blue plastic box higher on his hip, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. The sound was loud in the otherwise quiet of the night, and he would be worried about waking the neighbours if any of the surrounding houses were actually close.


**A/N** — Mild crack because I'm bored. Also an unnecessary amount of Cluam Sutherland references. Okay, let's be real: this is pretty much all just one jumbled reference ;P

Written for Houses [g] themed using the line "I'm committed to making your life a living hell."

Thank you so much to Beks for beta'ing this!

[4500]

* * *

Sirius hoisted the blue plastic box higher on his hip, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. The sound was loud in the otherwise quiet of the night, and he would be worried about waking the neighbours if any of the surrounding houses were actually _close_.

He looked around, listening, hoping to hear someone approaching, but … nothing. It was pretty late, after all. He'd just about given up when the large front door swung open and Mister Potter appeared, framed in a rectangle of light.

"Hi," Sirius said, grinning sheepishly; he was a little surprised he hadn't been greeted by the house-elf.

"Sirius?" Mister Potter asked after a moment, blinking in confusion. "What're you doing here? It's …"

"Uh," Sirius checked his wristwatch, using the light from the house to see it properly, "nearly four."

"Right, well …" Mister Potter paused, rubbing his temple, and sighed before continuing: "I suppose you'd best come in, then."

"Sirius?" a voice called from inside the house; Sirius leant to the side to peer around Mister Potter and saw James standing at the bottom of the stairs, clad in the Quidditch pyjamas he'd sworn he'd thrown out after the ridicule he'd received for wearing them at Hogwarts. Sirius hadn't even known they made adult-sized (or teenage boy-sized, if they were being honest with themselves) Quidditch pyjamas. Then again, Sirius had taken to sleeping in the old Muggle band t-shirts Remus and Peter had been getting him for birthdays and Christmases since third year. And boxers, of course; he wasn't an animal.

"Can I sleep on your sofa?" Sirius asked. He had absolutely no intentions of sleeping on the sofa, but he thought it was more polite than saying: 'I'm sleeping on your bed; either share or take the floor'.

"Don't be ridiculous," Missus Potter said, appearing behind James. "We'll set up the camping bed in James' room."

"Oh, you don't have to go to the trouble," Sirius said with a polite smile; he was _not_ sleeping on that thing.

"No trouble at all, dear," Missus Potter said, already heading back upstairs.

Mister Potter stifled a yawn and said: "Well, I suppose now that's covered …"

"Goodnight, Mister Potter," Sirius said, turning his polite smile onto James' dad. Yes, the Potters liked him, but even Sirius could admit that turning up on their doorstep at a quarter to four was pushing his luck.

"What happened, anyway?" James asked when both his parents had retreated upstairs.

"My mum kicked me out," Sirius said bluntly, walking past James and towards his room.

"You do realise you're a guest, right?" James asked, but followed Sirius nonetheless.

"Yes, James, I'm aware of that," Sirius snapped. "I'm also aware I'm _homeless!_ " He turned, walking up the stairs backwards now so that he could face James. "I had to pack up all my stuff and leave before my mum could finish burning my name off the tree!"

"Is that all you own?"

Sirius looked down at the box he was still holding — it was one of those storage boxes with the handles and no lid, though he couldn't remember where he'd got it from originally; it certainly wasn't something he'd have gotten from his parents. Sirius picked up the large plastic ice-cream cone that only half fit inside and said with as much sarcasm as was possible at this hour: "Yes, James. Literally all I own is a gag-gift you gave me last Christmas. It's my most prized possession," he added. "I take it with me wherever I go."

"Really?" James asked, looking genuinely concerned. "'Cause that's —"

"No, James, you complete and utter moron! I left my trunk outside!"

With a sigh, James turned around and trudged back down the stairs.

"Where're you going?" Sirius asked.

"To get your trunk, you useless git."

Sirius huffed and continued up the stairs, leaving James to carry the trunk alone. It wasn't _that_ heavy. Sirius had carried it all the way here, anyway, so he deserved a break. (Admittedly, most of his journey had been on the Knight Bus, but that was traumatic enough under the best of circumstances.)

He threw himself onto James' bed the moment he entered the room, the plastic ice-cream cone bouncing out of the box and rolling across the floor; Sirius ignored it and closed his eyes, hoping maybe if he looked like he was asleep when James arrived his friend would be less irritated. Though now that he wasn't fuelled by adrenaline, Sirius might _actually_ fall asleep before —

James returned sooner than Sirius had expected, visibly sweating and annoyed, his entrance loud enough to startle Sirius into opening his eyes and earning a "keep it down!" from across the landing.

"Sorry, Mum!" James yelled, dropping the trunk loudly onto the floor and flopping down beside Sirius on the bed. "Why's there a wig in that box?" he muttered, staring up at the ceiling.

"I was going through a phase."

.oOo.

Sirius was awoken by a loud _shriek_ and what looked like a small mammal being thrown across the room.

"What the bloody hell —" James began, but Sirius had spotted the object lying forlornly on the floor across the room.

"My wig!" he yelled, suddenly alert. "You better not have ruined it! What'd you even do that for?"

"I'm committed to making your life a living hell," James snapped. "Why d'you even care what happens to that thing, anyway?"

"It has emotional value." Sirius picked up the plastic ice-cream cone and righted it, carefully arranging the wig atop of it. It took some careful balancing, and a lot of de-tangling, but eventually the wig was somewhat presentable and almost securely settled on the cone. James watched the entire thing in silence. "Nice pyjamas," he said when he was done, turning to face James with a smirk his cousin would have been proud of. Had she liked him enough to be proud of anything he did, that is.

James turned a brilliant shade of red, bordering on purple, and began sputtering vague sounds that may have been intended as some form of defence.

"No, seriously," Sirius continued, "it's a good look for you. If Evans got a look, I'd bet she'd drop her —"

"Sirius!"

"She'd drop her text book," Sirius said innocently. "Why? What'd you think I was gonna say?" James simply stared at him, unimpressed. "Oh, come off it. What happened to your sense of humour?"

"I'm gonna get breakfast," James said, still with the same expression on his face.

"Great." Sirius grinned widely. "Bring me up something, too, would you?" At James' incredulous look, he added: "I am a _guest_ in your home!"

"You're a moron who's ruining my life," James muttered, but as he hadn't actually said no, Sirius decided he'd wait and see what happened. If nothing else, he'd at least get a few more minutes of sleep.

There was nothing quite like being woken up by an idiot screaming over a wig.

.oOo.

"Oi!" Sirius was woken a second time by a quick yell and someone sitting heavily on the bed with enough force to send him bouncing into the air.

"I was better off on the Knight Bus," Sirius muttered, wiping the trail of drool off his cheek with James' pillow.

"That's disgusting!" James yanked the pillow out from under Sirius' head, and his face hit the mattress. Hard. "Here's your bloody toast." He dropped the plate unceremoniously next to Sirius, spilling crumbs across the sheets.

"Such double standards," Sirius huffed as he turned over and pulled himself into a semi-seated position leant against the headrest. "Is that _it?"_ he asked incredulously. "You were gone for ages!"

"I was not!" James said. "How would you know, anyway? Lazy bastard."

Sirius picked up a slice of mildly burnt toast and gave James a deadpan look. "You could've at least scrapped off the burnt part. Or … y'know, hidden it with something." He paused for a moment, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful. "Jam? Butter, maybe? Those're acceptable things to put on toast, right?"

James shrugged. "If you've got such high standards, you should've gone down to get your own breakfast." Sirius bit into the burnt toast with a look that could cut glass, not taking his eyes off James the entire time he ate his disappointing breakfast. James was starting to look a little uncomfortable, at least; that went some way to make up for the assault on Sirius' tastebuds.

"Pete's coming 'round today," James said, probably more out of a need to break the silence than any real desire to inform Sirius of any plans that had been made.

"Why?" Sirius asked, his mouth still full.

"Because he's my friend?" James said; he looked mildly disgusted at the spray of crumbs from Sirius' mouth, but didn't bother saying anything about it. "I've known him longer than I've known you."

"Well _excuse_ me for not living in the neighbourhood," Sirius huffed around his last mouthful of toast.

James simply rolled his eyes.

.oOo.

"James! What're — Oh …" Peter froze in the doorway to James' room. "Hi, Sirius. What're you doing here?"

"I live here now," Sirius said haughtily.

"That's still up for debate," James muttered.

"Right, well …" Peter paused, eyeing the bewigged plastic ice-cream cone warily. "Let me know how that turns out."

"It's going great," Sirius said, but James responded at the same time with: "It's a disaster already."

Peter nodded. "Sounds about right."

James stood from the bed, stretching. "So what d'you wanna do now?"

Peter shrugged, but Sirius said: "I'm hungry." He added an exaggerated pout for good measure. "Breakfast was _such_ a disappointment."

"Will you get over it?" James snapped. "I am no chef."

"We could go to the park?" Peter suggested and, for lack of anything better to do, Sirius and James agreed.

"Mum! We're going out!" James yelled as he and Sirius pulled on their trainers while Peter trudged downstairs to get his from beside the front door.

"At least one of you has manners," Missus Potter huffed as she watched them trek past, adding, louder: "Will you be back for lunch?"

"Yes, Mum!" James shoved Sirius out the door while Peter was still tying his laces, ignoring the shout of: "Hey! Wait up!"

They were halfway down the street when Peter finally caught up to them. "Your mum said half one at the latest," he said, panting slightly. "And I messaged Remus, so he might come."

"Merlin, Pete, get some exercise," James said.

"Yeah, he could join the Quidditch team!" Sirius added with fake enthusiasm. "You could get matching pyjamas!"

Peter stared between the two of them, confused, for a moment, before realisation struck. "You still have those?" he asked, not even making an attempt to stifle his laughter.

"They were a gift from my mother!"

They turned a corner into what could generously be termed a side street. It was more of an alley, in Sirius' opinion; dark and fenced in and probably full of litter. "We're not going in there, are we?"

"It's a shortcut," Peter said.

"Great," Sirius muttered. "I'm gonna become a statistic walking through here."

"Will you stop being so dramatic?" James said, pushing Sirius into the alley. "You can see the other end."

"Well, things have already taken a turn for the worse," Sirius complained, scowling, as he stomped through the alley. "That was a _horrendous_ experience."

"That lasted all of thirty seconds," James said under his breath.

"I'm never doing that again."

"You know we have to come back this way, right?" Peter asked.

Sirius scowled, slowing down; James and Peter ignored his sulking and walked past him, leaving him to catch up or wait for them to come back. Sirius opted for a short jog to catch up just as James and Peter were crossing the small bridge and entering the field.

"This isn't a park," Sirius said.

"It's over the flood barrier."

"I thought you lived in a wizarding community," Sirius huffed. "Use magic to stop flooding."

There was a brief pause before James said: "Uh … nope. Muggle area."

"Just happen to be a load of wizards living here too," Peter added.

"I feel lied to."

Once they'd climbed to the top of the flood barrier — which was really just a load of dirt packed tightly and covered in grass to form a small hill — they had a clear view of the park. Park was putting it a bit loosely, Sirius thought. There was a slide and two and a half swings, but the roundabout had been mostly pulled apart and there was a large hole where … _something_ had been removed.

"This is tragic."

"Are you ever not complaining?" James asked.

"We've known him for how long?" Peter said, frowning. "Five years? Six? When has he _ever_ —"

"I'm starting to see why we never come here," Sirius huffed, choosing to ignore the fact that James and Peter were talking about him as if he wasn't there.

"Mostly 'cause they only just put the flood barrier in," Peter said.

"Yeah, me and Pete used to come here all the time," James added. "But it started flooding a lot over the summer."

"What used to be in the pit?"

"One of those things on a giant spring," Peter said. "James broke it that time he knocked himself out."

"Yeah, my mum was not pleased."

"How'd you — Actually, never-mind."

.oOo.

They decided the park was pretty much a bust, so they only stayed for an hour before boredom and Sirius' endless complaints drove them to leave.

"Is that guy following us?" Sirius asked, turning his head to look behind them. Peter and James both spun around. "Don't be obvious!" Sirius grabbed one of their wrists in each hand, pulling them along faster.

"Maybe he's just walking in the same direction?" Peter suggested, craning his neck in an effort to keep walking and still look at the man.

"I saw him come into the park just as we were leaving," Sirius said. "Then he followed us out."

"Why didn't you say something?" James asked, pulling his arm free and walking backwards.

"I don't know!" Sirius snapped. "Stop looking at him! Act like we don't know he's following us."

"We can see you!" James yelled; Peter huffed out a sigh.

"Then bloody stop!"

They all paused, looking at the figure in confusion, until Peter said: "What're you wearing that hat for?" Remus jogged closer and shrugged.

"Merlin, Remus, you frightened the life outta us," Sirius said, grabbing the hat. "Oh, that's —" he shoved the hat back onto Remus' head "— unfortunate."

"What happened to you?" James asked incredulously.

"My mum thought she'd try her hand at hairdressing."

"Is she okay?" Peter asked, his expression somewhere between disgusted and curious.

"She cut my ear," Remus muttered petulantly. "How long does hair take to grow back?"

"Don't worry, mate," Sirius said. "I've got you covered."

"What?" Remus asked. "How?"

"You'll thank me later."

James and Peter both groaned with realisation, muttering variations of 'good luck' to Remus. He didn't look at all appeased.

.oOo.

"Oh, Remus," Missus Potter said as they walked through the door, "you found them."

"Yeah, thanks," Remus said with a slight smile; he'd probably have stayed to talk more but Sirius was already dragging him upstairs and into James' room. "Why's all your stuff here?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, and when did it take over all my stuff?" James added, looking at the mess covering his floor. Admittedly, it hadn't exactly been clean when Sirius had arrived, but now James could no longer even _see_ his own piles of dirty laundry.

"They live together now," Peter said.

"Oh, how's that going?"

"Tensions are running very high." Peter ducked as Sirius swatted at his head. "It's really screwing with the group dynamic."

"Is it just me, or does it smell like feet in here?" James asked, abruptly changing topic.

"Was like that when I got here," Sirius said, flopping down on the bed and opening James' side-table drawer.

"Doesn't it always smell like this?" Peter asked.

"I could've sworn —" Sirius sat up, rummaging through the junk in the drawer. "First of all," he said, "there's a bin in the corner." He pulled out a load of old sweet wrappers. "This is disgusting."

"Could be worse," Remus muttered with a smirk and half a shrug.

"Oh, eeeew," Sirius shrieked, pulling his hand back quickly as if it had been burnt; Peter and Remus both doubled up with laughter as James turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Hey, so," Peter gasped out between peals of laughter. "Sirius, you had a solution for the hair situation?"

"Yes!" Sirius jumped to his feet excitedly and bound across the room to his plastic ice-cream cone.

"Oh what in Merlin's name is that travesty?" Remus asked incredulously, staring at Sirius with a look between shock and horror.

"James gave it to me," Sirius said defensively.

"Why would James give you a purple wig?"

"Oh! No, I bought that." He pulled the wig from the cone with an exaggerated sweep of his arm. "Isn't it great?"

"I can't believe you paid money for that," Peter said.

"Yeah, I thought you'd just found it in a skip or something," James added, his face finally beginning to return to a normal colour.

"Rude." James stood, heading for the door. "Oh, I'm sorry," Sirius huffed. "I didn't realise you could insult my wig all you wanted, but as soon as I call you on it —"

"Will you calm down?" James said. "I'm gonna take a piss."

"Now that he's gone," Peter said as James was still standing in the doorway, "what is up with his shoes?"

"Ugh, I know," Sirius said, "I thought _I_ was the homeless one!"

"Will you two shut up!" James yelled, pulling the door closed behind him. "And you're not homeless! You live here, don't you?"

"I told you guys he secretly loved me." Sirius pulled the hat from Remus' head, ignoring the other boy's protests, and started to arrange the wig.

"D'you need a comb?" Peter asked.

"As if James has one," Sirius said, leaning further into Remus' personal space than was strictly necessary.

"Don't you?"

Sirius paused. "I _do_ have a comb," he said. "But don't judge me; I stole it off Marlene."

"Don't judge you for having a comb?" Remus asked. "Or is it somehow worse than this purple monstrosity?"

"First of all," Sirius said, "I am doing you a favour by lending you one of my most prized possessions." Remus looked over Sirius' shoulder at Peter, who simply shrugged. "Secondly —"

Peter and Remus waited for a moment before Peter asked: "Secondly?"

"Actually I don't think it's that bad," Sirius said. "Fits with my alter-ego." He gestured in the general direction of his opened trunk, adding: "It's over there somewhere."

"Helpful," Peter muttered, but dutifully went to look for it as the door opened.

"You look ridiculous," James said, snickering, "what have they done?"

"Is this is?" Peter asked, holding up a pink and glittery plastic comb; the area around Sirius' trunk was somehow even messier than before.

"That's the one."

"Honestly, I leave you idiots alone for less than two minutes and this is what I return to!"

"What's that?" Remus asked, pointing at the turquoise bottle in James' hand.

"I thought it would help with the foot situation." James aimed the spray at the back of Sirius' head just as he was turning around to look.

"Oh, what scent is that?" Peter asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust while Sirius sputtered: "Oh, Merlin, it's in my mouth! I can taste it!"

James checked the bottle. "Well, that's not a vanilla jungle at all."

"Vanilla swamp?" Remus suggested.

"Vanilla carpark?" Peter added.

"Guys, this is not helping!" Sirius choked out, scraping his teeth across his tongue as if that would help remove the taste from his mouth and gagging.

.oOo.

"What exactly was happening in here?" Missus Potter asked, standing in the doorway of James' room.

"Sorry, Mum," James said. "Everything just got absolutely out of hand when Sirius knocked over and smashed my favourite Snitch statue."

"What do you have to say for yourself, Sirius?" Remus asked with mock outrage.

"Oh, come on!" Sirius exclaimed. "That thing was hideous anyway!"

James held up the shattered remains of a gold-painted statue in the cupped palms of his hands, staring at Sirius accusingly while Peter and Remus muffled their laughter into their hands. "That _thing_ was my pride and joy!"

Missus Potter fixed the statue with a flick of her wand and said: "You're all being ridiculous. Lunch is ready, but I expect a break from the nonsense." They all made sounds of vague agreement as they traipsed down the stairs after her.

Mister Potter watched them warily as they took their seats around the table. "Not been causing too much property damage, have you?"

"Don't set them off again," Missus Potter cut in before any of the Marauders could reply. "I'm hoping for a nice, calm —"

"Oh dear Godric, what is that on Remus' plate!" Sirius practically shrieked.

"Mum!" James yelled. "Are you trying to poison my friends now?"

"Peter, don't touch it!" Sirius slapped Peter's hand away from Remus' food.

"I think he's just shedding," Peter said. They all peered closer. "That's the thing about having purple hair; it's not hard to tell who's malting."

"Oh, sweet Salazar, my wig!" Sirius gasped.

"I'm sorry, what?" James asked, leaning back so that Sirius could get the full effect of his incredulous expression.

"Sweet _Salazar?"_ Remus asked.

"I like it," Peter said, returning the grin Sirius sent him at the comment.

"Boys, _what_ did I tell you?"

"Sorry, Missus Potter," Peter, Remus and Sirius intoned, while James said: "Sorry, Mum."

.oOo.

"So," James asked, throwing himself onto his bed once more, "what now?"

"Well, I would suggest the park," Peter said, "but Sirius' probably still convinced he'll get mugged in the alley."

"What alley?" Remus asked, frowning.

"That little gap between the two houses," James said, though his voice was muffled from where he had shoved his face into his pillow.

"Are you serious?" Remus asked.

"Why y—" Sirius ducked as a pillow, a shoe, and James' alarm clock were all thrown at him. "Seriously, Pete? An alarm clock?"

"At least he didn't throw someone _else's_ shoe," James said, staring at Remus accusingly. Remus just shrugged unapologetically. "Why're you still wearing that wig, anyway?"

"I'm going for a new look," Remus said. "Might have to get some new friends to go with it. You're all very bad for my image."

Sirius gasped, clutching his hands to his chest, and said in a fake hurt tone as he climbed onto the bed: "To think you would even _consider_ trading up!"

"What're you doing?" James asked, swatting at Sirius' ankles.

"Opening the window. Still smells like vanilla carpark in here." He dropped onto the bed once he'd forced the latch open, landing squarely on James' back and earning a muffled "Ooof," for his troubles.

"Now it's cold," Peter muttered.

"Oh, yeah, _you're_ inconvenienced," James huffed as Sirius got comfortable lying across his back.

"Look," Remus said, "we're all affected by Sirius in a decidedly negative way —" Sirius made a noise of complaint at that which went ignored "— I think by now you should really be used to it."

"Fine," James huffed, sounding a little winded, as he stretched an arm out and opened the drawer of his bedside table.

There was a gentle knock at the door, but it was already being pushed open before anyone could say anything. The dog ran into the room, joining Sirius and James on the bed, and Missus Potter stood in the doorway.

"If you've got nothing else to do," she said, "why don't you take Monty for a walk?"

"The dog's called Monty?" Remus whispered.

"Much better than their last dog's name," Peter replied. "That was tragic."

Missus Potter entered the room, handing a leash to Remus. "And don't let him off the lead again," she said, though her comment was directed at Sirius.

"Sorry, Missus Potter," Sirius muttered, rolling off James and sitting up properly.

"And get some bread if you go past the shops," Mister Potter added, coming to stand next to his wife.

"I didn't ask for a family gathering," James muttered. "Someone grab the dog; let's go."

.oOo.

"And _what_ exactly did my mother say to you, Sirius?" James asked, hands planted firmly on his hips.

"You're supposed to run _away_ from the dog!" Peter yelled at Remus, where they were both chasing Monty.

"How would that help?" Remus snapped.

"Yes, admittedly, it's possible this is a little bit my fault —"

"A little?" Peter and Remus both yelled, panting, as they jogged back towards their friends.

"How attached to the dog are you?" Peter asked in between loud gasps of air.

"Pretty attached," James said. "My mum likes him."

"So we can't just find a dog that looks the same?" Remus asked, bending at the waist and anchoring his palms on his knees.

"Uh … no."

"C'mon," Sirius said, "it's been half an hour. We've tried."

"You've —"

"What —"

"How —"

" _Merlin_ —"

"See, look," James said, "you've only gone and broken Remus and Peter now."

Sirius glanced over at them. "Hey! What'd you do with my wig?"

Monty trotted over quite happily, a large stick clenched firmly between his teeth.

"Well, this has been a really great bonding experience, I think," Sirius said.

.oOo.

"Why are you all so sweaty?" Missus Potter asked, her eyes settling on Sirius as the other three boys trudged past wordlessly. "Why _aren't_ you?"

"Well, James did a lot of yelling," Sirius said, "which I imagine was quite stressful for him. And Peter and Remus did a lot of running."

"And what were _you_ doing?" Missus Potter asked warily. "Do I want to know?"

"I was attempting to restore order," Sirius replied haughtily. "And I caught your dog."

There were three half-hearted noises of complaint from the top of the stairs, but by the time Sirius caught up with them they were already in a heap on James' bed.

"Are we too old to nap?" Peter muttered.

"Don't see why not," Remus said, closing his eyes and curling into a ball.

"Yeah, you're already drooling," James added. "Wouldn't make much difference if you slept."

"Where's the other pillow?" Peter asked.

"I threw it at Sirius."

"Ah." Peter pulled himself from the heap to retrieve the errant pillow; Remus was already snoring softly. "Hey, Sirius," Peter asked, bending to pick up the cushion, "did your parents really kick you out?"

"Yeah," Sirius said. "Why would I joke about that?"

"'Cause you do all the time?" Peter shrugged. "You don't seem upset."

Sirius thought about it for a moment, then said: "I'm not. I guess you guys are more of a family than they ever were."

"Awww," James said; Sirius turned bright red.

"Shut up!"

* * *

 **A/N** — This was supposed to be a short drabble about a plastic ice-cream cone and I honestly have no idea what happened.

Because my wonderful beta asked, I thought I'd explain my reasonings here, too: I wrote Mrs out in full because (though I'm aware this could just be me) when I see it written Missus I pronounce it slightly differently, and that's the way I wanted Sirius to pronounce it. I kept it the same outside of his dialogue to keep things consistent.


End file.
